She swallowed and clasped her hands together. “I overheard you speaking with your father this morning about your connection with her and the child you feel responsible for because of your, as you put it, involvement.”
It was too dark now for her to see his features clearly, but she could feel his anger rippling around her. And then he snorted with what could not be mistaken for anything but contempt. “You are determined to think the worst of me, no matter what. Aren’t you? Honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking to imagine a young and naive woman such as yourself would be open-minded enough to ignore the gossips and actually get to know me.”
“I have gotten to know you.”
“No, you haven’t. You’ve enjoyed a few short hours in my company, during which you deceived me for the most part, if you’ll recall. So if I were to follow your example, I ought to brand you a habitual liar who’s not to be trusted, and in doing so, I would at least have some proof, whereas your accusations are based on nothing but misconception and whatever nonsense you’ve created in that silly head of yours.”
“Mr. Townsbridge, I—”
“This does it. I’m through trying to prove myself to you. We’ll do our best to muddle through the remainder of your visit with decorum, but once you leave, I’ll pray I never have to meet with you ever again.” He turned away and stepped back into the attic. “Come along, please, so I may shut the door.”
Margaret did as he asked. Never in her life had she felt so small, and she wasn’t entirely sure why. He’d not explained the situation with Miss Granger, so she wasn’t any wiser with regard to his involvement with the woman than she had been moments earlier. Yet somehow, Margaret had the distinct sensation of having wronged him. More than that, he seemed genuinely hurt by her accusation, which led her to the awful realization that she’d not only misjudged him, but wounded his pride.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a futile attempt to restore the blooming friendship she’d just destroyed.
“No need.” He shut the door and latched it, then started toward the stairs.
Margaret followed. “Will you not explain the situation to me?”
“There are things that should not require explaining. You’ve clearly made up your mind about me, Miss Hollyoak, and I am not in the mood to try and sway you in your opinion. Quite the opposite.” He descended the stairs and held the door open for her at the bottom. The light from the hallway fell on his features, which were now so hard they offered no hint of the jovial man whose company she had enjoyed.
“Mr. Townsbridge,” she tried once she’d reached him and the door to the attic stairs had been shut. “Please consider my point of view. I hope to marry a man who will be loyal and caring, not one who will have affairs on the side and humiliate me. What I seek is friendship, companionship, and, hopefully, love. In order for those to be guaranteed, I need to know the facts about the man I choose to marry so I don’t fall prey to the same sort of union my parents have had to endure.”
His features finally softened a notch. “You seek more than convenience for much the same reason as I, but you’re not going to find what you want unless you can get past your preconceptions.”
“Forgive me, but I think I’d be naive to place all my trust in a man I know little about. Especially when said man is reputed to be a rake, and I’ve overheard evidence in support of this claim with my very own ears.”
“All right. I’ll accept that logic for a moment.” He offered his arm and proceeded to guide her in the direction of her bedchamber. “But consider your heart and your very own instinct. Do either give you cause to believe I’m a villainous scoundrel?”
“Not really,” Margaret admitted. “In fact, I quite like you as a person. Judging from the time I’ve spent in your company, I find you to be nice, funny, charming, and kind. But what if all of that is but an illusion?”
“I see.”
“You do?” When he didn’t respond, she mustered her courage and said, “I’d like another chance to get to know you. Properly, this time. Without any bias.”
A frown creased his brow. They reached her bedchamber door before he eventually spoke. “Tomorrow we’ll go for a ride. I’ll explain my so-called involvement with Miss Granger then so you may form a more educated opinion. All right?”
Appreciating his willingness to confide in her, Margaret agreed, then bid him good night. She’d wounded his pride tonight, that much was clear, and while he’d initially wanted distance, he’d not been too stubborn to try and work through this issue together. Which was something she valued - a sign they could settle disputes in a sensible way. It hinted at the beginning of a relationship based on respect - the perfect foundation for a solid friendship and possibly something much stronger, provided he managed to assuage all her concerns.
Chapter Three
AFTER SEEING MISS HOLLYOAK safely to her room, George made his way to his own bedchamber, located on the other side of the house. Once there, he poured himself a large glass of brandy and took several sips while pondering his most recent conversation with her.
By God, she’d made him angry. He’d been so looking forward to spending his evening with her, but when she’d suggested he’d gotten Miss Granger with child, it was as if the person he’d thought Miss Hollyoak to be had vanished. He’d no longer seen her as someone he might find happiness with, but rather as the worst sort of judgmental female imaginable – a woman who would always ignore her own experience with him in favor of thinking the worst.
Until she’d explained her reasoning.
In truth, she was right to be cautious - to safeguard her heart until she was certain the man to whom she chose to give it was truly deserving. Given her age and her lack of experience in the world, this was of even greater importance.
He downed the last of his drink and rang for his valet so he could get ready for bed. It was easy for him to forget she was so much younger than he when they were together. Talking to her was so natural. It didn’t feel like there were eleven years between them. But there were, and when it came to making informed decisions based on complete objectivity, the difference showed. So he’d do his best to remember that from now on, and rather than chastise, he’d make an effort to offer guidance.
THE DEW STILL CLUNG to the grass when George set off with Miss Hollyoak the following day after breakfast. He’d informed their parents that he would be giving her a tour of the estate, and while he had thought to mention the idea of bringing a chaperone, he rather fancied being alone with his lovely guest, so when no one else said anything, he’d kept quiet. If it came up later, he’d simply say it hadn’t crossed his mind since they would be riding and having a mounted chaperone wasn’t something he’d thought to consider.
“If you look hard enough,” he told Miss Hollyoak once they’d crossed a couple of fields, “you can see the top of a steeple in the distance.”
She raised her hand to shield her gaze from the sun. “Oh yes.”
“That’s the next village and where our property ends.”
“How many estates do you have?”